


Dim (as an ember)

by TessiePessie



Category: Anastasia (1997), Anastasia - Flaherty/Ahrens/McNally
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dmitry is a kitchen boy again, Ex A bunch of kiss, F/M, I like this two growing up together, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Same Story, The title is self explanatory, To Be Continued, new name
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-06 06:52:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14051385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TessiePessie/pseuds/TessiePessie
Summary: "He liked to kissed her and even when every one of them was hurried or short, he would have loved to do it more"A collection of Dimya shots.(I know that the title is not very original, but let me be.)(Ex "A bunch of kisses" fic)





	1. The very first one

**Author's Note:**

> Sooooo. This is my first fic on english so I apologize in advance for every misspelled word.
> 
> I would like to thank to LydiaOfNarnia. Without her probably I wouldn't do this. She is my beta and she is great (run to read her fics, they are awesome.)

Every one of their kisses were hurried and short.

Well, It was normal. She was a Grand Duchess and he a simple servant. His hopes were never very high. Just the fact that he could be close to her was alarming.

When he came to the palace, everything scared him. He was only ten years old, thin and dirty. All he had was an empty stomach and no family who could take care of him. A friendly neighbor who worked at the palace dragged him there. He said that they could teach him how to be a good servant, gain his own money and be worth something. So he did it, what else he can do? living on the street even for a week was devastating. He missed his parents too much to sleep at night. More than once, some older boy picked up on him. He was just tired of the bruises and tears.

So here he was now. Carrying a silver tray and fancy tea, looking at two girls as they giggle on the yard. The cook said that the Tsar's daughters asked for him to bring out brunch. It was a sunny summer day, and the breeze was warm, so the girls wanted to spend as much time as they could outside.

That was the first time.

Maria and Anastasia were playing some silly game, and were chasing each other when they looked at him. The smile on the youngest daughter should have told him that she was nothing but trouble, but he was ten, okay? and she was only eight. And royalty. What could go wrong? (Everything.)

With trembling hands, he took a few steps closer the girls, wondering on what he could say to them. Your Highness? that sound too snobbish to him, but the rules… Miss Romanov? _Miss Romanov, the tea and cookies is here!_ That’s didn’t sound good too either.

It wasn't necessary for him to decide what to say, because Anastasia was walking to him. When she was only a few centimeters away from his face, she smiled. And then her lips were on his, and _he couldn’t think, what was happening?_

 It lasted only a second or two, before she pulled back and shouted out to Maria.

“I told you that I was going to have my first kiss before you!”

“That’s not fair, you tricked him with the brunch.”

Anastasia ran away with Maria at her feets and the two girls were long gone before Dmitry was able to process what just happened. When he put his finger to his lips, it felt surreal. So surreal that he let the tray fall to his feet.

_What was wrong with that girl?_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love feedback, so you can make me happy with only that :)


	2. An empty room and a fairytale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At his twelve, Dmitry doesn't consider himself a coward. So if he has a chance, he is going to kiss the girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sad because Derek is no loger Dmitry (but he will always be Dima in my heart) so this chapter is for everyone who is also feeling blue.
> 
> (Specially to LydiaOfNarnia, because she is awesome.)

At his twelve, Dmitry doesn't consider himself a coward, even when he is hiding from the cook. He can only believe that it's a smart move and he is a smart boy. Because he is, clearly.

When he shows up in the kitchen that morning, one of the servants tells him to go away. Apparently, something happen to the supplies for tonight’s dinner and the cook was in a terrible mood. Sometimes, seeing Dmitry only makes his mood worse. So the servants gives him an apple and tells him to hide for an hour or two. Dmitry is not going to complain, free time is always a welcome thing.

Dmitry was in his way to the gardens when he saw her in a corner behind a curtain. Since _that_ moment two years ago, they have become friends, or something like that. He is a servant, and  Anastasia's older sister likes to remind him of his position every time she see them together ‘ _Shouldn’t you be in the kitchen, helping or doing something_?’ Tatiana would says and Anastasia rolls her eyes and always replies with ‘ _oh, he is helping…_ me _._ _So I do not get bored_.”

He is never going to get used to the idea that someone so tiny can hold so much stubbornness inside her.

The little girl was so focused looking at the corridor, that she did not notice how he settled down beside her and whispered near her ear.

“Why are you hiding… Your Highness?”

“I’m not hiding, I’m being stealthy.”

“That sounds the same to me.” 

With the reputation that the little duchess has, it would not surprise him if she has some trick up her sleeve. Her sigh and the look on her face tells him that he is not wrong. This is not the first time that they have found each other in a similar situation. 

“I have a lesson with Monsieur Pierre, but I’m not in a French mood. So I’m hiding.”

That’s a valid reason. Why do royal people need to know so many languages? Dmitry knows how to speak Russian, and he is perfectly happy with that. Anastasia doesn't look too happy when she has English or French classes. She is ten, she should be running around the palace or playing  whatever  games a princess would play. If he wasn’t poor and need to work to live, he would be doing that.

Taking a bites of his apple, Dmitry looks down the corridor. There is no Monsieur Pierre in sight, nor any governesses looking for the princess. They are  alone. This is why he holds her hand. No one is going to scream at him for touch his friend. (Are they?)

“Come. I’m hiding from the cook. We can do it together!”

He never hears her answer, but they giggle till they reach an empty room.

When Dmitry wants to avoid people, he comes to this room. It is far away from the kitchen and the light makes everything looks like a fairytale. He can see the dust fly around them but if he uses his imagination, it could be fairy dust. Here he is not  a servant. Here, he can rule the world if he wants to.

His friend is walking around the room doing a little dance with her hands behind her back. When she looks at him, he bows and she laugh. Anastasia bows at him too.

Humming a song that Dmitry has never heard before, she takes his hand and does a little twirl. They dance and it's awkward and they stumble more than anything, but they are having fun and enjoying this moment. 

“I’m going to teach you how to dance” Anastasia says.

He is going to crush her feet, but he will give it a try anyway. They have a lot of time to spare.

He could be a prince here, if he wants to.

At his twelve, he believes with all his heart that he is a brave boy. So he kisses her, even though he knows that it is wrong. If someone opened the door, he would be in serious trouble. It doesn't matter, it's worth it. This moment is worth everything.

He wishes he could be a prince.

“You owe me one” Dmitry says with a sly smile.

“Come. I bet you that you can’t catch me” she laughs.

So with the biggest smile in all of Russia, he follows her. He’ll never stop doing it.

 


	3. Stories shared in silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They are friends, so they talk, share stories and take care of each other. Dmitry would do everything to keep a smile on her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy this chapter. I will disappear for a few days because my sister comes for Easter and I will spend all my time with her so I do not intend to turn on my laptop.
> 
> Now finishing my blah blah blah, I thank LydiaOfNarnia again (because she is wonderful) and I left this update, that (at the moment) is my favorite.

While Dmitry does the dishes, everything is quiet. This is  not a normal thing, but the heavy winter makes everyone less cheerful and the palace is no exception. 

Still, something isn’t alright and he can feel it.

It is early in the morning, and the Tsar and his family have just finished eating breakfast, but the little Tsarevich never left his bedroom. Sometimes, Dmitry has to take Alexei's breakfast to his bedside, but not today. The Tsarina looked pale and tired, as if she had not slept all night. While her daughters tried to make small talk, she did not say a word and left the table without finishing her food. For the next few seconds there was nothing but quiet.

It is like the whole palace has fallen under a spell of silence and no one can speak.

His hand ache with the cold water and are probably going to bleed later, but that is something that happens every winter. Even though this labor looks like it never end, it is relaxing. No one bothers him and he has a lot of time to think.

Usually.

“Dmitry!”

Sometimes, Anastasia will come into the kitchen, sit on an old chair, and start talking and talking and  _ talking _ . Dmitry never stops her. She has a sweet voice and makes the whole chore of cleaning and drying more fun. Sometimes she just stands beside him, watching every moves he makes. Other times she offers her help. He never says yes (her hands are too pretty for such a chore like ‘ _ doing the dishes _ ’.)

It’s a normal thing, but today… today her voice is not sweet or harmonic. Today she almost sounds like she’s crying. He stops his work and turns on his heel to look at her. With red eyes and trembling hands, she looks too small for her fourteen years .He feels the need to hold her and never let her go. 

“What happen Nastya?” 

“Alexei...He is- Oh my god Dima!” Finally, she starts to cry.

It is no a secret that Anastasia is the favourite sister of the future Tsar, and that they spend a lot of time together. Sometimes they play awful pranks on the staff. Other times, she reads to him while he draws.

It’s also not a secret that something is wrong with the Tsarevich. He is too small for his age, too pale and thin. His mother takes extra care of him. While his sisters slept on cots without pillows, he had a normal bed.

The dishes don't matter anymore. Drying his hands on his pants, he takes a few steps before Anastasia throws her arms to him. They spend a minutes this way, with the girl crying on his shoulder and him holding her, trying to not let her fall apart. When she is a little more serene, he takes her hand and guides her.

His room is tiny and without personal things, but is clean and warm. He is proud of it. She’s never come here before ( _ how scandalous) _ but now she needs to pull herself together. At any moment someone could enter the kitchen and find them holding each other. At least in his room, they would knock the door before coming in.

Anastasia take a seat on his bed and clean the tears rolling down her face. She doesn't look around, so absorbed in her own thoughts that she probably doesn't know where she is. So, Dmitry sits in silence beside her, not knowing what to say or do.

“I know that he is weak. He has always been weak, but to see him like that… it’s too much to handle. He is sick and coughs through the whole night. Father Grigori will came this afternoon but what if he is too late? What if we lose…” 

She can not finish her sentence, and he doesn’t push her to. How can he? She is strong, that is how he pictures her. Strong, smart and full of life. Without her around everything looks so dull and gray. She always makes him laugh, and he can’t do the same for her now. He feels useless and so pathetic that he wants to cry too.

“Whatever is wrong with him, you know that Father Grigori will fix it. He always does. And the Tsarevich is a strong kid. If he is half as stubborn as you are, he will make it.”

That makes her smile, and he finally feels like he can breathe.

“Did I ever tell you about my parents….?”

She says no, so he tells her. He remembers how his father put him on his shoulder and told him that he could see all the way to Finland from up there. How he use to call him Dima. How on Sundays, they prepared breakfast together and he taught him how to cook blinis. How one day police officers took his father away and he never came back.

He tells her about his mother too. How she sang him to sleep and her voice was the most beautiful in all of Russia. How they played together. How she taught him to read and write. But one day, when he was too young, she got sick and fell asleep, never to open her eyes again.

He was five, and now he can’t remember her face properly. He knows that she had brown hair and green eyes, but he can’t remember how her nose looked, or her lips, or the way she laughed. At night, he can still hear her sing to him. 

“Oh Dmitry, I didn’t know…”

“You didn’t have to, and I’m not sad. I’m just glad to have had them in my life, even for a short time. Now I’m here, and you are a part of my life too.”

This time, she smiles like herself. A big smile full of light and joy.

He kisses her forehead and holds her hand while he continues to tell her stories of his childhood before the palace.  When they run out of stories, she sings to him until he fell asleep.

When he wakes to the sound of the cook screaming at him, she is not there, but there is a paper on his pillow.

_ Thank you Dima. I’m glad that you are a part of my life too. _

 


	4. But now I can see she does

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Anastasia's birthday, and Dmitry bought her a gift that could mark a before and after in their lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not dead, so here is the chapter 4. I hope you enjoy it  
> Thank you Lydia for being so patience with me. Seriously.
> 
> AND THANKS TOO ALEX, If you were not in a relationship, I would marry you.
> 
> Also, if you wanna talk about Anastasia or anything, you can find me on tumblr as TessiePessie (I share my fics and musicals stuff here) or Anotherdayblue (main blog)

Alexei was having his tea behind the shadow of an old tree.

Just as Dmitry has told Anastasia, her little brother was getting better. It took a week and many tears from the royal family, but now here he is, playing chess by himself.

“Do you want to play with me Dmitry?”

Stunned, the young servant looks at the prince with big eyes. The royal family knows that he and Anastasia are friends, but he doesn’t talk too much with her siblings. Olga is too old and always looks busy, Tatiana scares him, Maria giggles and blushes every time he looks at her (she’s weird, she acts the same way with the guards). Then there was Alexei, small, sick Alexei. He was always with his mother. Dmitry never thought of him as a friend, just as an acquaintance, even though the little Tsarevich always asked to spend time with Dmitry when he brought him food.

Alexei was a light soul. It was easy get along with him, but he was still the future Tsar.

It must be lonely to be him.

“I don’t know how to play, Your Majesty.”

“I can teach you!” 

So he does.

They spend most of the day playing chess. With the day's warm breeze, it isn’t necessary to return to the palace for a few more hours, and Alexei ordered a guard to tell the cook that Dmitry was too busy for kitchen duties. Alexei, at his eleven years old, could be very authoritative and, hopefully, Dmitry would not get into trouble.

They shared a few laughs and jokes, though Dmitry lost every game against the future ruler. It was easy for him, but he was Anastasia’s brother, and he knew that something was going on inside Alexei’s head when he saw him smile.

“What are you going to give Anastasia for her birthday?”  
“Why should I give her something?” _Play it cool, Dmitry._  
“You guys are friends, or am I wrong?”  
“Yes, we are… but she is going to get a lot of presents that day. Mine’s not going to be important.” 

The truth is that he has been saving money for months to get her something special. In previous years he gave her flowers, or something he cooked. But this year... this years he would go big, and it has nothing to do with the funny things his stomach does when he sees her smile at him.

On his free day from the palace, he was passing by a jewelry store when he saw the necklace. It was a simple flower with a stone at the center. An emerald. His birthstone. It was a risky move, but he bought it anyway.

In his head, it is the perfect gift, and he really wants to tell Alexei about it, but that would only betray his feeling for his sister, and Dmitry is frightened.

With a sly smile, Alexei breaks the silence.

“She will love anything you give her. Don’t be a coward.” 

So, the eleven years old boy probably knows. Smart kid.

At Anastasia’s birthday, the whole palace smells like spring. Every window is open and light touches every corner. It is a busy day in the kitchen. They have to cook for the guests of the Grand Duchess's fifteenth birthday celebration. Dmitry prepares the salon for the reception, and then watches Anastasia from afar as she dances with a bunch of guys fighting for her attention. She is a lady now, and probably some duke or foreign prince is thinking of her as his future wife.

Everybody pays attention to the youngest daughter of the Tsar and, true to her personality, she enjoys the eyes on her and gifts sweet smiles to the people who surround her. 

Dmitry doesn’t have a chance. 

So he walks away, to become one with his surroundings.

Later in the night, he’s just finished cleaning the kitchen when he spots her walking in front of him. She looks happy, _she looks beautiful._

“Alexei told me that you have a present for me. Don’t you dare to go to sleep without giving it to me, Dima.” 

The little box has been in his pocket for the whole day. If she didn’t appear like an epiphany, the birthday gift would have ended at the bottom of his drawer. 

“And you didn’t even congratulate me.” 

Suddenly, the box in his pocket burns against his leg. He sighs. This girl is going to be his doom.

“Here, close your eyes and put your hand up.” As seldom witnessed, Anastasia obeyed. 

When she opens her eyes, she looks as if she is glowing and he almost doesn’t hear when she says _what is this?._

Her fingers are trembling. When she takes the necklace like it is the most fragile thing in the world, she gasps.

“Did you buy this… for me? Dima, _it’s beautiful.”_

He doesn't know if she understands the reason behind the emerald, and the hidden meaning of the stone; but she kisses him, and he kisses her back.

Because kissing her feels like stars colliding. Kissing her make him feel powerful, and he can pretend this is going to last forever. _Even when the stars die and leave a black hole in their wake._

Turns out that Alexei was right. Anastasia loves the necklace, and sometimes, when he sees her wearing it, he remembers that night and blushes just like Maria does.


	5. It could be worse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The week after Anastasias's birthday, Dmitry finds himself bringing tea to the children of the Tsar. It’s not like he wants to hear, but Tatiana Romanova can be very loud sometimes, and she is talking about him.  
> He probably shouldn't have listened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not even sorry.  
> Please don't hate Tatiana, she is really trying to protect her sister feelings at her own way.  
> If you want to yell at me, you cand find at tumblr as TessiePessie or Anotherdayblue, and we can talk about it.  
> Thanks again to Lydia, _oh my god_ , she is so patience <3

It’s only been a week since Anastasia’s birthday and the things in the palace are as normal as a could be. The people on the street are hungry and by consequence, angry too. The Tsar, who always gave Dmitry a polite smile, now looks more worried every day and the increase of meetings with royalists and politics men only makes the wrinkles on his forehead more noticeable. The royal family is worried too, but they try to hide it the only way they know: by acting as if nothing is happening.

This is why Dmitry finds himself bringing tea to the children of the Tsar. It’s not like he wants to hear, but Tatiana Romanova can be very loud sometimes, and she is talking about him. So, he stops behind the door.

“How that boy can buy a necklace like that? Maybe he stole it.”  
“Tatya, How dare you?! “Anastasia panicked voice reach him.  
“It’s an honest question Shvybzik, he is a servant, he shouldn’t be able to afford to give you that pretty gift.”  
“How he found the money is none of your business, Tatiana.” 

Olga’s voice plunges everyone into silence for a few seconds. The perks of being the big sister, maybe. Dmitry should not be so pleased that the eldest of the daughters would take his side, but he would have liked to see Tatiana's face because of her sister's words. She definitely is not pleased.

“I think you should stop spending time with him. You are fifteen years old now.”  
“Why should that would be a problem now if it wasn’t before?”  
“Because he is a servant Shvybzik! What do you think people would say if they found out that _he_ gave you that necklace that you are _always_ wearing?” Suddenly, the ice in her voice has a bit of malice. “He is nothing more than a poor kitchen boy and that will always be his place.” 

It’s not like he doesn’t know that. _He knows_ , but still her words hurt him. Tatiana just took his heart and threw it to the ground without looking back.

Despite everything, she is right. He and Nastya should stop spending so much time together, they are not children anymore and it’s not good to him either. One night at his bedroom he found himself thinking about Anastasia, no like friends do. He thought about how her hand feels against his own hand, or how her eyes shine at midnight, or how he feels when she calls him Dima. _It’s feels right_ , but he know that it’s not.

So yes, maybe he should stop being friend with the Grand Duchess.

Trying to act like he never heard anything, Dmitry come into the room. 

Tatiana is staring at him, perplexed. Maria and Alexei seem like they don’t want to be there, and Olga is red, like she wants to scream but her good manners won’t allow it. 

Anastasia is another story. She is crying in silence in her seat, only stopping when she sees him. Her eyes follow every step that he makes. 

He tries, really tries to not look at her, but it’s almost impossible when he is serving her tea and Anastasia takes his arm.

“Dima…”  
“Yes, Your Highness?”

He can see the hurt in her eyes (her beautiful eyes). He hasn’t called her that since he was fourteen years old, but Tatiana is right. Of course she is right. 

“Dima, _please_ …” 

_No, please don’t do this Nastya_. How could he explain to her? She is so stubborn, even when the truth is in front of her face. So he doesn’t say a thing, and keeps doing his job, serving the tea to Tatiana, who (he never thought it was possible) looks small on her seat. Still she doesn’t say a word about the elephant in the room.

Angry, Anastasia abandons her tea and leave the room. Her footsteps rumbling in the silence like a storm, but to Dmitry, everything feels like the eye of the hurricane. The worst is yet to come.

When Dmitry finishes serving the tea, he bows quickly and leave. Behind him, Tatiana says, “I’m doing this to protect her.”  
“No, Tatya”Alexei’s regal voice fills the silence. “You are just being mean.”

It’s past midnight when someone knocks on his bedroom door. Everyone in the palace should be sleep by now (except him, he just can’t). The knock against the door sounds again, more persistent. Sighing, he takes his coat and opens the door, only for a small figure to rush into his bedroom and close the door.

“We should talk.”  
“No, _we shouldn’t_ and you should not be here.”

She is mad. He knows by the way her lips are pressed together in a thin line and how she is glaring at him. Anastasia doesn’t listen to him; she sits down on his bed and commands him with a glare to do the same. And he does, in silence.

“You know that Tatya doesn…”  
“No Nastya, she means exactly what she said. And she is right.”

Anastasia opens her mouth, only to shut it after a few seconds. She sits straight, trying to look confident. Her eyes are cold when they lock with his own. He was expecting a big fight and some screaming (maybe a few kicks) but not this, not this quiet Nastya. She looks mad, powerless and resigned. Even with her chin held high, she fails to look like this doesn’t bother her. And he doesn’t want to do this to her, _he doesn’t, he doesn’t, he really doesn’t want to_.

They sit there in an awkward silence. As always, Anastasia makes the first move.

“I thought I was important to you.”

 _You are, that’s why I’m doing this_. It hurts too much to say the words out loud, and it hurts a lot more look at her, so he fixes his gaze on the floor.

“I get it. Good night, Mister Sudayev. Sleep well.”

Getting up from his bed, Dmitry opens the door for her,not before taking her hand and leaving a quick kiss there.

“Good night, Your Highness.”

The next morning Dmitry wakes up with a headache and a heavy heart. By afternoon, everyone in the palace is speaking about him and how cold the younger daughter of the Tsar is suddenly treating him. The people like gossip, and this is too big to not speak of. Ever since Dmitry came to the palace, he has been the favourite servant of Anastasia, Maria and Alexei. Now, only Maria and the Tsarevich speak to him.

He ignores the look of the other servants, who want him to talk about it. Dmitry does his job with total professionalism. At dinner, the cook looks at him with sadness in his eyes, and with the first cordial and affectionate tone he has heard in years, says _"I told you boy. Royalty is like that and now look at yourself."_ He also gives Dmitry an extra muffin and sets him free a couple of hours before his chores are done.

He doesn’t want free time. If he has it, he is going to overthink and god help him because if he overthinks, Dmitry probably is going to run to her.

So he finds himself at the garden, watching the first stars twinkling. 

When Tatiana Romanova sits beside him, he pretends that she is not there. He shouldn’t, but he is mad at her, at himself and at the universe who made him poor.

“I’m sorry” is the only thing she say before gets up and leaves him alone.

When he begins to cry, he feels sorry too.


	6. Keep your nerve and see this trough...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's November, and with the arrival of the cold days, the Romanov brothers caught a cold and Dmitry shared a deep conversation with Alexei.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really really _really_ sorry for the delay but here is chapter 6. Hope you enjoy it.   
>  If you want to yell at me, you cand find at tumblr as TessiePessie or Anotherdayblue, and we can yell at each other (?)

It was the end of November when the Tsarevich caught a cold. It had been a week now, with the royal family secluded in Alexei’s room. As consequence, Tatiana and Anastasia got sick too. The family had to divide their time to take care of the three sick siblings, which led to everyone being exhausted. Although winter had not yet begun, the cold had already arrived and Russia still demanded that their rulers listen to their prayers. 

The air smelled like revolution and chaos, but Dmitry would never say it out loud. 

Dmitry is carrying the tea that Dr. Botkin asked him to prepare for Alexei when he sees Maria reading to her little brother. She looks tired and the dark purple marks below her eyes were the proof he needed that the Grand Duchess was probably sleep deprived. 

He knocked the door three times before coming in.

Alexei look less sick now, but still too fragile to get out of bed, which didn’t make him too happy.

“Hi Dmitry! I was wondering when you would come to visit. Maria is running out of stories.”

“That’s why you should be sleeping Alyosha.”

“I brought tea. Dr. Botkin says that it would help you sleep without coughing.”

Carefully, Dmitry gave Alexei the hot cup of tea under the intense look of Maria. If it spilled on the bed, it would cause a disaster and not only would it be more work for the maids, but it could burn the Tsarevich and surely the Tsarina would give a great punishment to him. That's why he asked the young man to sit with his back to a large pillow and then placed the tray on his legs.

Sometimes, Dmitry liked to think that Alexei in another world could be his little brother. He actually care about him and, anyway, Maria and Dmitry were the same age. It wasn’t so crazy to think about it.

He had lived a long time in the palace to see Alexei grow up.

“Can you stay with Alexei a few minutes? I would like to see if Anastasia is doing well. Last night was a nightmare. None of us could catch some sleep.”

Dmitry nods, sitting at the empty spot that Maria left. 

Alexei has that mischievous look that Dmitry has seen so many times before. So, he lets out a brief laugh and looks directly at the young boy drinking cautiously his tea.

“You can just say it. I know that something is upon you”

“Well… I know that you miss my sister. You nearly choked when Maria said her name” _oh this kid_ “Why don’t you talk to her?”

“Because it’s more complicated than you think, Your Majesty” 

Oh, but Alexei is smart, he probably knows. He is going to be the future Tsar, so he probably knows the rules better than his sisters. Then, why does he keep trying to amend the things between Anastasia and him?

This is not the first time that they had had this conversation. Two weeks after Anastasia and Dmitry stopped talking and couldn’t stand to see each other, Alexei tricked him into to playing chess with him, but when he had entered the room, Anastasia was there, looking at the tiny pieces on the board. Then the door closed behind them.

Anastasia was furious. She did not say a word or even looked at him the whole time they were locked up. She was just walking from one corner to the other, and then trying to open the door, and when she noticed that didn’t work, she just walked again. By the time Alexei opened the door, Anastasia screamed _“this is not funny, Alyosha”_ and left almost running, closing the door so hard that Dmitry thought the lamp on the roof would fall. _"I think it did not work", no, obviously it didn’t work._

“It’s just… Anastasia looks happy when she’s with you. Now, she is always moody and trying to be the perfect Grand Duchess.”

That doesn’t sound like the Nastya he knows but it can’t be only his fault. Everybody is more alert lately. _It’s fear Alexei_ , people are afraid of changes, and Russia is changing, like it or not, and by consequence, the Royal family too.

_Have you heard? there’s rumours in the street. They say that a group of people are getting organized. They want the Tsar’s throne._

“Relax. Just give her time and Nastya will be the same that you know.” _is that true?_

Maria comes back a few minutes later and she tells him that he can leave now. So he says goodbye to Alexei, and leaves.

Anastasia's room is just down the corridor and Maria said that last night she had a fever; maybe she need something. He is a servant, if she needs something, he should help her. It’s not like he wants to see her. Dmitry is just doing his job. Clearly.

The door is open when Dmitry reaches the room. Anastasia is sleeping but she doesn’t looks very calm. There is a frown in her face and her lips are pressed into a thin line. Looking to see if there was anyone who could see him, Dmitry takes a step to her bedroom and then, sits beside her.

She looks pale. Pale face and pale lips and he wonders if she is going to be ok again. _It’s just a cold_ , but the thought is there, and his chest is aching. 

Anastasia’s hand is cold when he touches her, but he does it anyway. Maybe he could give her a bit of warmth. Maybe she’ll know that he is here. Maybe…

“She had a rough night. Please don’t wake her.” Olga is standing in the door, with a tiny apologetic smile.

“I wouldn’t dare. I just wanted to know if she is okay.”

“ _Oh_ , She’s not, but she will be. Our Shvybzik is a strong one.” Olga looks at Dmitry and sighs. “I have to talk to mom, it’ll probably take me time and if she wakes up, I’m not going to be with her… maybe she’ll need water or something else. Anyway, I’m leaving.”

She didn’t say it out loud, but the words are clear. _You can stay._

Dmitry didn’t leave Anastasia’s hand the whole time he is there. He didn’t talk either. He just watched her sleep. This is the first time that they’ve spent time together since _that day_ , and even though she is not aware that he’s here, he’ll treasure every second they have.

But it’s getting late, and he need to get back to the kitchen. Leaving a kiss in her forehead, Dmitry stand and whisper in her ear.

“You need to get better. People need you.” _I need you._

When Olga comes back to Anastasia’s room, she finds her sister alone and smiling in her dream.


	7. Heart don't fail me now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Big news in the palace. Olga is getting married.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooo... For the next two (three?) weeks I'm going to dissapear because on may 25th is my graduation and and I need to travel to a city which is eight hours away from where I currently live, and I'm going to take a break from the computer to spent time with my sister, which means that this is the last update for a while.  
> Also, If you are reading "All I ever wanted was the world" I'm going to try to update this saturday and then dissapear with glory.
> 
> That said, let's go to the chapter (ah, and if you want to come talk to me, I'll be in tumblr -> Tessiepessie/Anotherdaybluee)

Days after Anastasia and Tatiana get better, the big news was popped out and the whole palace went into shock.

The Grand Duchess Olga Nikolaevna Romanova was engaged.

Dear Olga would be a queen in the future because her soon to be a husband was Prince Carol II of Romania, son of King Ferdinand.

It was the only thing that the servants could talk about for the past days, and the only topic that actually seemed important to them. She was 21 years old now but most of the staff had watched her grow up and she, as same as her sisters, was a beloved one. This whole engagement thing was shocking and unexpected.

“I only hope that he treat her well” said Vera, as she cut the vegetables. “You know, little Olya had a heartbreak before. Poor girl, that junior officer left her with tears… and now this “prince”... We need to pray for her happiness Mitya, we have to.”

Because it’s common knowledge that Prince Carol II is … a womanizer. He has a reputation and Dmitry wonders if the Tsar and Tsarina are aware of who is their future son in law.

Still, the royal family would host a party to celebrate the union of the two countries, and Dmitry and the whole staff would prepare everything for the celebration. As always.

He is cleaning the tables when the sound of footsteps warned him that he is no longer alone. 

Behind him, Anastasia looks shy. She’s playing with her hands nervously while Dmitry stands there still. _Did Olga tell her that he visited her?_ No, he didn’t think so… She looks pale, but at least she wasn’t in her bed anymore, and was healthier than the last time he saw her.

“Can we talk?” Anastasia finally breaks the silence.

“I’m busy right now, I’m sorry.”

“And later? I can wait here.” there’s is hope in her voice with a bit of nostalgia. 

“No, I can’t… It’s Olga engagement party, I can’t just sit with you and talk.”

He’s not lying, but she doesn’t believe him. Anastasia’s eyes were always so expressive. With only a gaze you can know if she is happy, sad or furious, like now. Now she is clearly irritated with him and he doesn’t blame her. He is mad with himself too.

“Cut the crap Dmitry” her voice is so harsh that he gasps. “Can we be civilized for a minute? I really need to talk with someone. I really need my friend back.”

There’s something behind her words that alarm him. The girl in front of him with all her rudeness and relentless character who seemed never worried is afraid and the only time that he saw her afraid before was when something was happening with one of her siblings. 

_What is happening Nastya?_

Quickly, he takes two chairs and leads her one to sit, and when she does, he sits in the other one. There’s so many questions in his head that he couldn’t say out loud now. Is she okay? Why is she afraid? DId something happen to Alexei? _Come Nastya, talk to me. I’m here now._ But he doesn’t say anything, so he takes her hand and holds it tightly till she looks at him and smiles.

“I don’t want Olga to leave us,” her voice is a whisper that got lost in the room. “We have always been together and now she is going to a different country? What will happen if she is sad or sick? We will not be there to support her. She is going to be by her own…” 

_Oh, that was what was happening._

If Dmitry was jealous of something, it’s how close the Romanov siblings were. They barely fought with each other and they probably thought that they would spend their whole life together. It must be hard to love someone so much and that one day, she had to leave and realize that she’ll not be there to have breakfast with you or read together by the fireplace. 

Well, _He has an idea_ but it’s not the same. He was an only child and he lost his parents too soon. It’s not the same…

Besides, leaving the country now must be hard for Olga too. She was very aware of the situation that Russia was living. She worked as a nurse for a while in the war. She saw the death and the poverty too, and she liked to read the newspapers, and the journalists are not very subtle… There’s is discomfort against the royal family and it’s usually portrayed with awfuls caricatures and the Tsarina was the favourite person to draw.

Dmitry thought that everyone will be happy with the engagement, but now…

“Well.. Olga is happy for her future wedding?” he has to ask, even when Nastya looks alarmed.

“Of course she is! Papa won’t let her get married if she is doing it out of duty more than love,” Anastasia bites her lip, trying to collect her thoughts. “I mean, I don’t think that she loves him, but she must like him. I saw her last night reading his letter and she looked… Happy is not the word, stunned? and she was smiling so brightly Dima. It’s makes me happy too.”

“Then what are you going to do? If this is what she wants… “ Dmitry smiles at her, trying to comfort her. “And it’s not like she will stop to being your sister. You always can write to her, or go to visit her. Watch if your future brother in law treat her well.”

She smiles too and kisses his cheek before leaving with an _“I’ll let you work now”_

The rest of the afternoon he spends with the rest of the servants, carrying tables, chairs and trays with food. There’s so much to do and almost not enough time. Most of the guest will arrive in less than an hour, and the Tsarina was on the verge of a nervous breakdown so he tries to work fast, because as the cook told him at lunch _“They don’t pay you to be friendly.”_

At night, the alcohol and the food was running from hand to hand. 

Olga looks happy and carefree, firmly anchored to the arm of her future husband. They greet the people who approached them to congratulate them in their engagement. She looks young too and Dmitry thought that he never saw her like this. 

They are celebrating love, and love is what Russia is lacking now.

Anastasia was talking happily with Maria, they been together the whole night, smiling at the young men who asked them to dance. Maria was the one who seemed to enjoy herself most. She accepted every invitation and danced as much as her feet could. Anastasia just watched her, and occasionally danced with Alexei or her father.

And now, she is looking at him. 

There's a million words in that one gaze and when she starts walking in the direction of the garden, he follows her without thinking, because that’s what he does, and _that is what he always will do._

He finds her at the fountain, throwing little rocks in the water. The air is cold, and that is probably why no one is here. They were the only stupid enough ones to risk freezing to death.

“I talked to Olga,” Anastasia turns to him. “She said that I can go as much as I want to visit her, and I promise her that I’ll send her almost a letter everyday… so, thank you.”

Slowly, Dmitry takes the the missing steps that separate him from her. 

Something changes in the air. It feels heavy to breathe, and there’s a humming that wasn’t there before. In the moonlight, Nastya glows. Her hair looks like silver thread and her eyes are sparkling. Her hands find her way to his face, pressing it gently on his cheek. It’s burns againts the coldness of his skin, but he doesn’t move. 

“Why did we stop talking again?” it’s a rhetorical question, but he answers anyway.

“Because I’m not enough for you Nastya,” _and I need you to know it._

“That’s was what Tatiana said...but I don’t care. _Do you?”_

“Not now.” 

Not anymore.

When their lips collide, Dmitry feels himself alive again. His hands find their way to her waist and pulls her closer, closer, _closer._ They’ve spent so much time apart that now his body doesn’t allow it. Her finger are playing with the hair on his neck, making his whole body tremble, and they giggle as they break the kiss for air. 

His heart is beating so fast and loud that he can hear it; Nastya must feel it, because she puts one hand to his chest and smiles wide. She looks so beautiful that he needs to kiss her again, and she must think in the same line, because her hands are pushing him down. Their noses bump and they laugh again, and they kiss again because it doesn't seem enough. It will never be enough. She is the only one who can take his breath away with only a touch and make him feel warm in a cold night.

_Why on earth did he think that it was a good idea to live apart of her when it was clear that his place was beside her?_


	8. Shared our sorrows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Together, they were pure _magic._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND I'M BACK, I'M SO SORRY!! if you don't know, I found a job and I move to my college city. My life is fantastic by far but I don't have much time to write now... but well. I'm not giving up on this fic, so please don't do it.
> 
> Also, I'm going to change the name of the story because what I thought at the beggining it's completly different now at this point.
> 
> The new name will be... "Glowing dim as an ember" (hope you like it).

Hands holding. Light touches on his arm. Brief kisses when no one was watching and he lost the count of smiles that she gave him when they saw each other for the first time in the day.

The days before Olga’s engagement party were like a dream. One beautiful dream that Dmitry wouldn’t want to end _because reality could be just like a nightmare._

It was easy.

Being with her.

It was like breathing, because even when his eyes were closed, he could felt her presences at his side.

Even when she wasn’t there.

Just like magic.

Anastasia was pure magic because there’s no way that the events on his life could lead to this path if there was no magical power involved. Or maybe they both were magic together, maybe that was why his head felt so light when he kissed her, or powerless and powerful at the same time.

They spent afternoon at the garden, looking the bare trees in the snow, and at night she would sneak out of her room to his, and they would talk, talk and talk till they both are too sleepy to made coherent words.

And they fell asleep together (or that’s what Dmitry thought, because she was never there when he woke up)

Maria knew, because she caught them laughing as they left the room where they shared their second kiss so many years ago. Dmitry was holding Anastasia by her waist and Maria gasped in panic. Still she promised not to tell anyone.

Maria liked love stories and she dreamed about having one.

Maria liked secrets too and she’ll never betray her beloved sister.

Alexei knew, but because he is a clever boy and Nastya is smiling more than usually. He knew, because his favorite sister now was singing to herself and was always in the kitchen, like she used to do before. 

He knew because Dmitry looked younger and carefree again.

And Alexei made him promise to never break Anastasia's heart.

_But what if she broke his heart instead?_

Dmitry was so happy in his own world that he didn’t hear the rumors in the palace. Or the rumours in the street. Nor the fear in Tatiana’s face when she read the newspaper every morning.

The Tsarina was tired too and in the edge of a mental collapse, her husband try to comfort her and assure her that nothing bad would happen.

Dmitry was so happy that he doesn’t notice the people at the gates of the palace claiming for food.

He thought that nothing could pop up his buble but then it happen.

It was cold December morning. One day more and January would start. And a new year too.

The family was drinking tea in the Mauve Room. Dmitry had a tray with tea and cookies and little sandwiches, and he was in the task of serving them when a servants with a frenetic gaze enter the room and whisper something in the Tsar’s ear.

His face lost the color. He whispered loudly _“what? what?!”_ and the Tsarina at his side looked worried.

“What happen, Nicky?” Nicholas seemed that he doesn’t want to share the news with his family. He took firmly his wife’s hand and spoke.

“Grigory is dead.”

There’s a long silence before Alexandra broke in a crying scream. Tatiana rushed at her feet to get at her mother side and hug her. Maria kept saying _“no, that’s impossible...Papa!”_ and in the whole commotions, no one but Anastasia noticed when Alexei stood quietly and left them alone.

He didn’t leave his room in the whole day, and his beloved sister waited patiently at the door.

Dmitry wanted to be by her side, but the palace was in full chaos. The Tsarina retreated to her room too with a migraine and a broken soul. Tatiana was at her side trying to comfort her and look after her. Maria didn’t believe the news yet and was in denial and the Tsar… he was in constant meetings and looked tired, really tired.

Dmitry didn’t know what to do. He felt useless.

So he made tea.

He made chamomile tea and brought a cup to the Tsarina and Tatiana (she thanked him with a shy smile).

He made cinnamon tea, and left it beside Maria while she looked at the people at the gates.

He didn’t take a tea to Anastasia, but he did bring her a cup of hot water with lemon while she waited in the floor.

“You’re the best.”  
“Nyet. I’m just doing my job Nastya.”

And yet, nobody asked him to do this.

The corridor was cold, and she looked very pale, so Dmitry sat at her side and wrapped his arms around Anastasia. She was cold too and just because was natural, she rested her head on his shoulder.

“He didn’t talk to me.”  
“He didn’t talk to anybody Nastya.” That’s was true. Tatiana tried to feed him earlier, and Alexei locked his door. Maria had come by too, but was only met with silence. Then a servant tried, but nothing.

Alexei was trying to disappear, and he was going a great job at it.

“He might talk to you.” Anastasias’s word made his stomach ache.

He was the only one who didn’t tried to approach the young Tsarevich, and that was because he knows that Alexei must be heartbroken.

And Dmitry couldn’t look at him in that mood.

The short life of the younger Romanov could be resumed in one word: pain.

Since the moment he was born, he was cursed with an awful illness that made him bleed without stopping. He was so fragile that if someone hugged him tightly, he would bruise and be in agony for days.

He couldn’t play like other kids. He didn’t have a lot of friends and his bathroom could be the nightmare scene in some scary novel.

Alexei suffered enough and Dmitry just prayed that god would stop it.

But Father Grigori now was dead and that meant… Everyone’s know what that meant.

Alexei knew it too.

He was a smart kid.

And he was alone too so Dmitry get on his feet and knocked the door.

“I want to be alone.”  
“Alexei, it’s Dmitry. Let me in.” There was silence at the other side, and then, the sound of feet broke it. Anastasia gasped.

“Are you here to play chess?”

“Yes. I thought that you might want the distraction.”

 

So they played, for hours. They played till the light outside faded and it was hard to look at the tiny pieces.

They didn't speak, but that was okay. Sometimes Alexei let out a tiny laugh and then went back to being the quiet child that he was.. Sometimes Dmitry sighed because he was tired of losing every game, but that only made Alexei smile more.

And then there was no light in the room, and they couldn't see the chess game, but the kid hadn't kicked Dmitry out of the room yet, so he waited, waited till something happen. He waited for the right time.

“I’m going to died Dmitry.”

The servant froze at his spot. He knew that Anastasia was out there. She must be, because that was what she had been doing since Alexei walked out from the Mauve Room. And she for sure was listening.

“Everyone is going to die Alexei. I’m going to die too someday.”  
“You don’t understand. I’m going to die soon.”  
“Don’t say th…”

Alexei's eyes looked old, which was fair, because at his young age, he had lived too much and too little at the same time. Dmitry would never understand the agony that his body suffered, or how much pressure and expectations were on his shoulders.

Shoulders that no one expected to get to the age of twenty.

“People are angry because daddy let Rasputin be part of our family and now that he is not here, maybe they will be less angry with us, but without him… If I get sick again, I may not recover again.”

How was it possible that this kid--a kid that wasn't yet thirteen--could have his death so assumed? _Dear god, why are you so unmerciful?_

"Maybe I shouldn't have been born... Or maybe I should have been born in another era because, without me, everyone would be happier."

“Alexei…”  
“It’s true! everyone said that before I was born, mom used to be more pretty and young. That she smiled more and worried less.”  
“But without you, they wouldn’t be whole. You keep this family together Alyosha. You are their hope.”

Dmitry wasn’t lying. The royal family prayed so much for a boy, for a next ruler and yes… Alexei was sick, but he was kind and gentle, and wanted everyone to be happy no matter if they were servants or family.

He wanted the best for everyone. He would be a good Tsar.

“You must to protect Anastasia when I’m dead. She would need you.”  
“You are not going to die anytime soon Alexei. Stop talking like that.”  
“How do you know that?”  
“I know it because I wouldn’t let that happen.”

And at night, when he was alone at his bed trying to sleep, he knew it that his words where truth.

But Dmitry didn’t know yet how he would fulfill his promise.


	9. Stay (I pray you)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A shared promise at nigth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it's been a while and this is a short chapter because it's actually just one long scene. It's kinda fluff maybe... But I guess that more bittersweet than anything.
> 
> Warning, we are approaching the end of this story, just 3 chapters more.
> 
> If you get to this point, thank you very much. 
> 
> Maybe it's not so good written because I don't have a beta anymore and again! I don't speak English, so this is purely me.
> 
> (What happened in that bedroom I left it to your imagination.)

The chill air of a February night woke him up.

Actually, it was the knock on his door what woke him up.

Dmitry was half asleep, his mind didn’t think clearly and half stumbled to open the door don’t even bother it to put the shoes on. It was dark, probably 2 in the morning.

At the door, Anastasia was playing with her necklace ( _she never takes it off_ ). Suddenly he thought that maybe something wrong happened. Maybe Alexei was sick again, maybe something happened to Olga in Rumania and she just knew it.

He was rambling and half sleep too.

“Nastya, what happens?”

Her bright blue eyes looked at him and he felt how his belly do that funny thing that weakened his knees. _He was so lost._

“I couldn’t sleep”

Her lips collided with him and abruptly his whole body was awake now. One of his hands found the way to her waist holding her body like his life depend on it, while the other clumsy one tried to close the door in the most silent way possible.

She was shivering and her hands were cold and when they broke the kiss, he holds them and left a few kisses on her knuckles trying to warm ‘em.

Since two weeks ago, the rumors on the street became angry screams and everyone on the palace was more alert than ever. And Anastasia’s kisses changed from sweet lips touch to desperate ones. She was afraid, Dmitry knew, but she didn’t wats to talk.

So he lets her kiss him senseless and the selfish part of him was enjoying this.

But tonight, tonight something was different.

Nastya’s lips found their way to her face again and travel across his cheeks, nose, neck and that sensitive point behind his ear and even when he knew that he should put an end to this because _this_ was beyond decorum and she clearly didn't know what her actions were doing to him,  his common sense was just whispering and he couldn’t hear it properly.

At some point, they fell into the bed and he rolled leaving Anastasia body below him, pressing her against the mattress. Even when her hands weren’t cold anymore, when it touched the naked skin under his shirt, he trembled but for a whole different reason.

With more courage, he let his lips leave little pecks on the corner of her mouth and then in her forehead and nose, and eyes. Nastya hummed happily and he laughed because his heart could explode right there.

_Oh god, I love you…_

“Do you?”

Anastasia words broke the spell and he felt how he paled.

Her eyes were looking curiously at him and when he tried to get away, her hand anchored at his neck and didn't let him. Still, he looked away because he couldn’t believe he said that out loud. Dmitry didn’t saw the smile on her lips.

“Do you Dima? really?”

It was done, she already heard it so it wasn’t going back now.

Dmitry let one of his hands traverse the outline of her face. Gently touching her full lips and then her neck, going down through her arm until it finds its place on her hip.

At each touch, Nastya trembled as she slowly closed her eyes. Even in the dim light of the room, he could know perfectly well that her beauty could take his breath away.

“Yes, I do. I really do”.

As soon as his words left his mouth, her lips silenced any reply and she kissed him in a way he did not know could exist.

It was not despairing, not even fear. It was not like their childish kisses, or like the nervous kiss they shared next to the fountain that night a couple of months ago.

No, this was pure fire. A fire that burned in its wake and left him at the mercy of her to do what she wanted.

_So... this was what passion was._

At some point, Dmitry lost his shirt as her fingers traced the expanse of his chest while he enjoyed the extension of her body.

“I need you to promise me something”, Nastya said between kisses.

Right now, she could ask him to capture all the stars on the heaven and he would happily do it.

“I need you to promise me that you would always remember me”.

He stopped. She was serious, _she really thought that he could forget her? stop loving her? she doesn’t know that without her he was nothing?_

“Nastya…” a finger shut him up and he frowned.

“Just promise me. Promise me that you’ll always love me and never forget me. Forget _this_ ”.

One of her hand was placed over his heart while she smiled faintly with tears in her eyes.

Dmitry let his forehead touch hers so he could see directly into her eyes, knowing that every word that would come out of his mouth was completely true.

“Nastya, I love you. I will always love you. I would do it till my last breath and there’s nothing that could change that or make me forget you. Nothing”.

And then, he kissed her tears away and she allowed him to hold her through the night.

He kissed her everywhere, every inch of her. He kissed her till his chest exploded and his mind went white.

He kissed her even when his lips were numb and his hands were shaking and she was breathing hot against his ear.

And after that, he told her sweet words between touches. How much he needed her, how lost he will be without her and how he didn’t want to let her go now.

When he fell asleep with Nastya in his arms, she looked at him trying to record in her memory the way his face was without worries. How young he looked in his dreams. His nose was a bit more crooked to the right, and his lips were always a little dry.

“I love you so much that it hurts me”, she said in a whisper. His body was irradiating warmness and she never felt so at home before.

(And even so...)

Slowly, Anastasia let go his grasp against her and kissed his forehead. Dmitry made a funny sound that made her smile and when he felt her absence, instantly hugged the pillow in a childlike gesture that melted her heart.

She didn’t want to left him, but she has to and with one last look, she left the sleepy boy who did not know about her turbulent thoughts.

She would miss him deeply, but she could never forget him.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked it. Kudos and a review would be nice. I love feedback, so you can make me happy with only that :)


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